


Wake Up

by klainefics24



Series: Married!Klaine [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, You Have Been Warned, as usual hehe, married, married!klaine, nap, sleepy, this is tooth-rottingly sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainefics24/pseuds/klainefics24
Summary: Blaine comes home exhausted from an early-morning rehearsal
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: Married!Klaine [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795405
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Awww, another little domestic dream <33 I love writing this AU so much lol

Blaine didn’t normally work on Sundays, arranging his schedule so that it fit comfortably with Kurt’s 36-hour week at  _ Vogue _ and allowed them to spend a decent portion of the weekend together. However, the theatre was currently knee-deep in preparations for their upcoming production of  _ Hairspray _ , meaning that he had people pestering him left, right, and centre to organise extra band rehearsals and transpose solos for the catty girl playing Amber (she has been driving him nuts since they started working together, but he had to give her kudos for what he hoped was just some serious method acting...)

As a result, he had to part with his precious, lazy Sunday mornings, usually filled with cuddling and kisses and Kurt’s  _ delicious _ lemon and blueberry pancakes. It wasn’t fair. No sane human woke up this early on a  _ Sunday _ . Especially after coming in at 10:00PM the night before. The head director wanted them to do a full run-through of the first act, but the cast- exhausted after three hours of intense choreo- kept on slipping up and forgetting their cues, which promptly led to him herding everybody on stage to give them a 20 minute lecture on the gravity of their situation and demanding that they show up tomorrow at 8:00AM sharp with  _ every damn little mistake corrected, or else _ . Blaine felt kind of bad, but as musical director he just decided to stay out of things, sheepishly thanking them for their performances in that day’s vocal workshop as they stomped out of the stage doors.

So, here he was. Cursing the production team as he filled a large thermos with hot, strong coffee and wrapped himself in the first scarf he saw when he opened their wardrobe (Kurt’s red, woollen number from when he had first moved to New York), the aftershocks of his 6:00AM alarm still ringing in his head. He kicked the door closed when he left for the station, praying to every God he could remember the name of that they would finish quickly.

-

Kurt was bustling around the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from his solo brunch, when Blaine returned. He heard a long, drawn-out sigh from the corridor, and couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto his face.

“You okay, honey?”

“I’m going to  _ kill _ Barry if he pulls this again.” Blaine groaned, tugging off his boots. “That was the worst two hours of my life.”

Kurt chuckled, slinking out of the kitchen and coming up behind Blaine to pull him into a hug. “Mm, are you sure about that? I remember you saying the same thing when Rachel dragged us to go and see her ex’s performance art piece where they tipped buckets of paint on the floor and rolled around in it whilst singing  _ Enya _ .”

“Trust me, this made  _ Enya _ guy look like Yves Klein. It was absolute torture. And it's freezing outside .” Blaine grumbled.

“Well, are you at least done for today? I saved you some pancakes, and I was thinking maybe we could go back to bed for a little while. Warm you back up...” The end of his sentence slipped into a whisper, Kurt’s hot breath against his neck making Blaine shiver.

“I’ve just got to tidy up the transpositions for  _ You Can’t Stop The Beat _ so that I can get everything printed before tomorrow. Gimme half an hour, and then I’m yours.” He promised.

Kurt smiled, pecking him on the lips and squeezing him tightly. “Sure, Bee. See you soon.”

Blaine returned the hug before shuffling to the office- dubbed as the ‘music room’, since dragging the piano in there so he had a place to compose and perform. He dumped his satchel on the floor, the leather bursting with files of annotated scores, collapsing on the sofa and rubbing his face with one hand. That morning’s rehearsal really took it out of him. It didn’t involve more direction on his part than helping to polish a few verses of the opening song, which he was thankful for since halfway through he was considering tipping the pencil pot on his desk and digging around for a roll of tape to hold his eyelids open. He felt much the same now. The walk from the station did nothing to perk him up, in spite of the frosty winter air.

Groaning, he curled up on the couch, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck and opening his laptop on the coffee table. The software music tinkled as the virtual score loaded on the screen. If he made a start now, it would be done before lunch.

-

“Blaine? Are you nearly done?”

Kurt knocked gently on the office door, not wanting to disturb him too much. He waited for some small grunting noise, confirming he had permission to enter, but was met with silence.

“Hellooo?” He called, slightly louder. Again, nothing. Not even the clicking and tapping of fingers on a keyboard.

Confused, Kurt pushed the door open using his elbow, balancing a steaming mug and a plate covered in tinfoil on their breakfast tray.

“Blaine? I made you some tea and reheated your food. It’s been almost an hour, you really should take a-”

Kurt peeked around the corner, babbling to himself, but was cut off when he looked over and saw Blaine- fast asleep, wrapped up in a crochet throw, face buried in one of the embroidered cushions that usually perched neatly at each end of the couch.

_ Oh _ .

Stifling a cooing noise that was otherwise best suited to tiny, fluffy animals, he tip-toed to the coffee table and set down the dishes, crouching carefully so that he floated just above his sleepy husband. Kurt sighed and gently cupped his cheek, careful to not disturb him. Blaine would always be beautiful in his eyes, but there was something especially breathtaking about how innocent and peaceful he looked whilst he slept.

With barely-there touches, Kurt allowed his thumb to sweep over each of Blaine’s features as he studied them. Long, dark lashes that fluttered against the thin skin below his closed eyes. Soft, pouty lips- pink and round and deliciously kissable, corners meeting the graceful slope of his cheekbones. Breathing out a sigh, Kurt smiled and let the warmth in his chest overcome him. Besotted, he couldn’t help but continue to stare, though he figured he had surely earned the right to ogle a little after five years of marriage. 

It still felt so new to him, being in love with Blaine. They were intimately familiar with each other now; two perfect halves of the same soul, two beating hearts entwined so that they became one. Despite everything they had been through, growing up and drifting apart, the invisible, magnetic force between them always drew them back to each other. While he trusted that this was evidence enough that they were meant to be, it was small moments like these- conveniently, only happening when he needed them the most- that reassured him of the fact.

After a minute, or several, Kurt remembered his initial objective (worrying that his food would go cold  _ again _ ) and leaned closer so that their noses grazed, Blaine sniffling warm puffs of air that tickled his upper lip.

“Blaine?”

Met with silence, he ran a finger back and forth against the short layer of stubble from yesterday morning's shave.

“ _ Blaaaaine… _ ” He crooned. Blaine stirred a little, furrowing his brow and sighing, but still refused to wake. Kurt smirked.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?"

Settling on his knees, he bent forward and placed his lips in the tender dip of Blaine’s temple, pressing a feather-light kiss to the delicate skin. Slowly, he began to travel around the softest parts of his face, leaving chaste pecks on the apples of his cheeks and the length of his jaw.

“Baby?” He whispered, placing another on the bridge of his nose. “Bee, It’s time to get up.”

Kurt continued in the same fashion, kissing all around his face and breathing sweet nothings down his ear until Blaine finally started to rouse, twitching at the pleasantly gentle touches. He batted one eye open, peering up at Kurt’s doting smile.

“Mm…”

“Good morning.” Kurt chuckled. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“ _ Mm-hm... _ ” Blaine murmured, reaching up so that he could rub his eyes with the ball of his hand. “Not quite as nice as the wake-up call.” He said with a drowsy grin.

Kurt laughed again, letting his own hand wind its way through Blaine’s ruffled curls- delightfully ungelled thanks to his early start- and massage his scalp. Blaine practically purred, his eyes slipping back shut as he wriggled around to reposition himself so that he was facing his husband. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly.  _ He was such a puppy _ .

They sat for a minute, basking in the tranquillity of Blaine’s post-nap daze, before Kurt interrupted.

“You know, I did actually get you up for a reason. These pancakes aren’t going to eat themselves.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow, peeking over at the dainty little set-up on the coffee table. “Hm…” He blinked up at Kurt lovingly, pushing his bottom lip out the tiniest bit. “Feed me?”

Now  _ that _ was playing dirty. His puppy-dog eyes were Kurt’s metaphorical achilles’ heel, only made worse by the fact that he reserved them for the times when he knew he already looked adorably, irresistibly dishevelled and that he would certainly get his way.

Kurt glared at him playfully, letting his fingers scuttle down behind his ears to tickle him under the chin, making Blaine squeak and hunch up his shoulders.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

  
Blaine giggled, looping his arms around the back of Kurt’s neck so that he could pull him down for one, last kiss, square on the lips. It was tender and loving, messy and sweet- wonderfully, imperfectly  _ them _ . Pulling away, he noted the faint pink blush heating Kurt’s cheeks, smiling at how tightly Kurt had wrapped himself around his finger before sitting up and making room for him on the couch.


End file.
